Like a present,
Christmas comes.
Every year in a different way,
but always the same.

Never dreaming…
It’s impossible to do.
Although you think
you are an adult.

If you have a crib
with moss and flour,
you think you are into it
only for a moment.

And on New Years Eve,
when you drink champagne,
you think about your parents
about years in the past.

Like a child
in the Epiphany,
you feel that
this is true.

Although you grove,
always, at Christmas,
you will be
like a child, in the past.

Cap comentari: